Golden Sun: The Growing Storm
by Vox Mars
Summary: Non-cannon prequel to the events of Golden Sun, from a different perspective.
1. A Trembling Mountain, Part I

Golden Sun: The Growing Storm

A Trembling Mountain, Part I

The blizzard rained ice and snow down on the small cadre of warriors. They stood before a giant, frozen-over chasm that appeared to bore deep into the side of the mountain. Two of the group were examining the ice while the other two watched. One of the men adjusted his scarf, tying it tightly around his head. Though the weather usually did not bother him, he did not feel like wasting energy, minimal as it was, to keep himself warm. It slipped off, and the man attempted to re-tie it. "Damn scarf."

"Puelle, this way is frozen over!" The Proxian's cry hit Puelle's cold ear like a drop of hail. Before responding he turned and looked back to the mighty Mars Lighthouse that stood defiantly among the tundra in the distance, wondering what the mighty Proxians of old would have done in his situation. As he pondered their situation, he realized he seemed to be looking to his ancestors for strength more and more the older he became. Was it a sign of wisdom or weakness?

Turning back to mountainside he sighed and lowered his scarf, "Alright, try to melt a way through. If you and Ghenz don't make any progress by the time Ophane returns, give up and return to the village. I'm going to scout up the mountain a bit, see if there are any other entrances. Don't you tire yourself out either!" He shouted, trying to elevate his voice above that of the howling blizzard that seemed to perpetually plague their northern lands. He pulled his scarf back up, just in time for Jusk to open his mouth.

"Puelle, may I accompany you up the mountainside? I have very sharp eyes sir, and I'll be able to follow you- trust me! I've trained very hard sir-" Knowing full well that the over-anxious young man would continue to ramble until they were buried in the snow, Puelle sighed and lowered his scarf again,

"Of course, Jusk, I would appreciate the extra set of eyes. Be sure you don't slip though, I'm not going to tell the chieftain a proud warrior of Prox fell and broke his leg climbing a mountain." The younger warrior smiled and looked to the mountain, eager to begin their search.

"Puelle?" He could tell the feminine voice emitted from behind him. Puelle angrily ripped the scarf off his head, and burnt it in his hand as he turned around, "What is- Agstie! What are you doing here? Who is watching little Menardi and your new enfant? Does Ophane know that you are out here?" His surprise was doubled when he saw the scythe on her back. "Agstie no…"

"Puelle, I have not served Prox for far too long. You and I both know I was born to be a warrior of Prox, not a housewife- no matter how much I love my family." Puelle opened his mouth but the woman silenced him, "Before you start, Ophane agreed with me, and I left our children in the Elder's care. I beseech you Puelle, let me assist your search, I assure you childbirth has not weakened me- on the contrary, I have experienced lifes' greatest pain and survived. Twice." Her joke and disarming smile had the same effect it had always had on Puelle- he immediately gave in.

"Agstie, you may be stronger than even your husband credits you." The woman smiled, as did Jusk- Puelle's sentry who had failed to mention the female Proxian's presence. Puelle felt the warrior had let her sneak up on them. "Let us test these sharp eyes and indefatigable legs of yours. Lead the way."

Jusk nodded, immediately propelling himself out of the snow and onto a ledge above them. After taking a second's break to check around, he again leaped to the next ledge where he checked, then continued upwards. Puelle nodded to Agstie, and the two of them leaped into the air, following Jusk's ascent.

The search proved to be as treacherous as Puelle had predicted. Ice mixed with dirt, rock, and snow provided a challenge to even to Puelle- the greatest warrior in Prox. He jumped to the next ledge scanning above him for any openings. Seeing nothing, he sighed and watched the more meticulous Agstie take another look on the ledge beneath him. Then, she leaped upwards.

He continued to watch as time seemingly slowed down and she landed on the ledge, frowned, and screamed: the part of the ledge she landed on crumbled beneath her feet. Puelle burst forward, thrusting one hand into the mountainside, and the other out to her. She grabbed on desperately as more of the ledge crumbled away, leaving her dangling over a long drop. Puelle grunted as he pulled her up, watching blood pour from the five indentions where he had forcibly buried his finger into the side of the mountain.

"Puelle… I can't begin to thank you." Agstie said when she safely climbed onto what was left of the ledge. The warrior stepped over, and removed his hand from the mountain. She gasped as she caught sight of his hand, and grabbed it before he could jerk it away. "Oh Puelle!"

"Don't worry about it, we need to keep searching." He had to admit though, his sore fingers were warm in her hands.

"Puelle!" Jusk's voice came from above. "Look, look behind you!"

Puelle turned, reluctantly withdrawing his hand, to see the crumbling ledge had gave way to a small hole. He judged they could fit if they went in one at a time, but he could not tell whether or not it actually went deep into the mountain. _Guess there's only one way to find out._"Good work Jusk. Get down here, but be careful!" He turned back to Agstie, and the two nodded. She understood as well as Puelle did. The warrior prepared himself and then jumped off the remnants of the ledge, and into the hole…

… only to land on his feet a moment later. "Not much of a fall." He said aloud as he summoned a ball of fire. The light flickered around the walls. From what he could see, it was not large, but it did seem to go on a ways. Puelle shrugged and assumed it would be worth their time. "Ok, you two come down."

As expected, first Jusk landed heavily, and then made room for their more graceful companion. They all took a moment to orient themselves, and then began to follow the passage. Puelle led them down the cavern, with Agstie unleashing a small fireball every now and then so that they could find the entrance hole. The winding cavern descended gradually, becoming less cold and more damp the deeper they went.

"Wait." Agstie said simply, causing the trio to halt. She closed her eyes, and put her hand against the wall of the cave. Puelle and Jusk paused and turned to observe the Proxian as she slowed her breathing. The cavern became silent, and Puelle began to get an odd feeling. Agstie's eyes snapped open and she withdrew her scythe, whipping around on her heels. "Someone's following us." She snarled. Jusk unsheathed his sword, but Puelle waited.

"Agstie… do you think… do you think he could have survived out here for so long?"

"It's possible, and that would explain the fluctuations." The two's conversation seemed to confuse Jusk, and Puelle saw the question coming.

"What are you talking about?" Jusk asked.

"You know we were sent out here by the chieftain at the behest of the elder because of the Psyenergy fluctuations. What you were not told, was what the chieftain suspects as the cause of the fluctuations, and for good reason." Puelle said, withdrawing his own blade. "I had hoped he was not right."

"What is it?" Jusk asked, his voice cracking, apparently feeling the fear and apprehension two of Prox's greatest warriors were exuding. Puelle saw the blood rush to the younger warrior's face, and then watched it drain when Agstie answered him,

"Saturn."

Jusk turned to Puelle, who nodded. Jusk's next question died on his lips- A roar emitted from the cavern they had previously traversed, and a giant fireball rushed towards them. Agstie swung her scythe as Puelle fired a smaller fireball over her shoulder. He intended it to light the cavern more than do harm their assailant. The scythe slashed through the large fireball, dissipating it, while Puelle's own fire soared across the small cave.

Right before the ball was extinguished by a powerful fist, Puelle could make out the scar across the Proxians face.

"Damn."


	2. A Trembling Mountain, Part II

Golden Sun: The Growing Storm

A Trembling Mountain, Part II

"So… the warriors… of Prox… have come to… reconcile their great… est mistake…" Saturn's voice was deep and he took heavy breaths, almost like it was a labor for him to speak.

"Saturn! We are here to make you pay for your sins! You have nowhere to go, let us give you a quick and honorable death so that you can perhaps save your name from yourself." Puelle commanded, taking a step in front of Agiste- not so much as to challenge Saturn as to prevent her from killing herself. He was unsure where his little speech came from, but he felt like Saturn did not care what any of them said, it was just necessary to impress upon Jusk the need for confidence in this moment.

Saturn's reptilian laugh echoed through the cave. As Puelle predicted, the only thing that concerned Saturn was his fighting prowess: "Ha! … you think… you can match… the Great… Saturn… No… I can tell… the three of you… cannot even… harm me…" Before Puelle could respond, another fireball was launched their way. He brought up a wall of flames, absorbing the blow.

Puelle had originally intended on the three of them fighting Saturn together, but quickly realized it would take more than just them. "Agiste! Take Jusk and try and find a way out, get the others, and warn the chieftain!" Instead of an answer, he turned to see her jump over him, and charge through his flame wall. "Damn it, Agiste!" he dropped the wall, and charged ahead. _Or we could fucking charge in._

Agiste was deft with a scythe, but Puelle could tell Saturn was able to easily avoid her slashes.

Saturn seemed to be larger than any Proxian, and possessed a blue tinge to his skin that was unique. The scar that dominated face and rendered his left eyes useless, was given to him by the chieftain many years ago, when he was originally banished from the village. Puelle remembered, because he helped defeat the mighty warrior that day.

Saturn dodged a vertical slash followed by a burst of flames, and responded by laying Agiste flat with a solid flame-coated punch to her stomach. Puelle was worried about the woman, but decided that Saturn was the bigger concern. He leaped over the prone Agiste and delivered a side-kick into Saturn's open chest. The strike knocked the surprised behemoth into a wall, and Puelle unleashed a chain of fire at him to hopefully keep him down for the moment. Not checking to see the damage, Puelle turned to Agiste, who was being helped up by Jusk. "Now, go!" he turned round quickly only to find Saturn had gone. Cursing lowly, he brought his blade up in a defensive position, searching the cavern. _He couldn't have gone far… _Saturn landed heavily from the ceiling, knocking Puelle over.

"You… I remember you… You will… not make it out… of my cave… alive…" He stood up, summoning a ball of flames in his hand.

"Flare!" The flames did not seem to hurt Saturn, but he did take a step back from Puelle. _Damn it Jusk!_ Puelle struggled to his feet, and watched as Jusk tried to charge and slash. Saturn used the side of his arm to knock him harmlessly to the side and followed with a small fireball to the chest.

Puelle got up, and sighed. _If I can just get inside those arms. Damn it! _Puelle brought up his blade, and attempted his own bull rush. When he was close, Saturn raised his arm to deal similarly with him, only Puelle somersaulted forward then planted his feet firmly underneath the exiled Proxian. He brought his blade up, exploding upwards with his powerful legs. Saturn, however, simply stepped backwards to avoid the slash. Puelle tensed for the crushing counter-attack, but was surprised when it did not come. He landed on his feet, bringing his blade about. Saturn had his good eye shut, and his mouth open. It took Puelle a moment to realize he was screaming in pain for no noise was coming out of his throat.

To his amazement, the mighty warrior fell to his knees, then flat on his face. Blood began to pool around the figure of the titan. Sticking out of his back, was a scythe, and a triumphant Agiste. "That wasn't that hard." She said, grabbing the handle of her scythe.

Puelle nodded, "I guess ten years in a cave will do that. I wonder though, what caused him to suddenly reveal himself? It's unlikely he wanted to try and take on the chieftain after ten years…"

"Uhh… Puelle! Puelle!" Jusk's cries were oddly distant. The Proxian turned to see a hole in the cavern wall. _Saturn must have knocked him through the rock during the fight…_ "Puelle!"

Puelle jogged over, and then crouched down. He could see light coming from this newly revealed chamber, and could make out Jusk's lower torso, and some sort of… table? He crouch-walked through the tiny tunnel, and stood up in the new cavern . "This place is massive." Puelle said, looking up at the soaring ceiling of the cave. Feeling a tap on his leg, he looked down to see Agiste had followed him, and he was in her way. Stepping over near Jusk, he immediately felt another tapping on his leg, which turned into a tug on his cloak. "What is wrong Agiste?" He looked down to find that Agiste was not the one trying to get his attention. Instead, it was a small Proxian child.

"Mars…" Puelle was stunned as he picked the child up.

His eyes were red, and his ears were like a normal Proxian's as well. However, Puelle could see the uncanny resemblance between father and son.

"Saturn's son." Agiste said, stepping closer to see the child. Jusk stared at the table, which Puelle realized was actually a crib of some sort. "Where's the mother?"

Jusk raised a bone, "I think she might be here."

"This… This is a monster." Puelle said, placing it in the crib. It giggled, and clapped it's pudgy hands.

"We must kill it." Jusk said, raising a hand to the child. Agiste' scythe knocked Jusk's arm away.

"Don't touch it! It can only be one year if that! How is this child a danger?" Puelle raised his eyebrow at the display of maternal instinct.

"This child will want revenge when it learns of it's father's fate. Agstie, he will want to kill you. You realize that, right?" Puelle was unsure as to what Agstie was thinking, or if she was even thinking rationally.

"Puelle, you look at me." The warrior did as he was told, looking her in the eyes. "Now tell me that you can kill an innocent being." He opened his mouth to defend himself, but she kept going, "We are trained to defend our home, Puelle, not kill those who don't even threaten us!" Agstie's plight had already broken Puelle's will, but Jusk seemed unmoved,

"This child is a potential threat to Prox. If you are a true warrior, you can see that the threat he poses outweighs whatever reasoning you have. A threat to Prox is just that, nothing more, Agstie." Jusk's almost righteous fervor struck an odd note with Puelle. On one hand he was glad the warrior saw his home above all, but now he doubted whether he was thinking for himself either- was it his words or the words of whoever trained him spouting from his mouth.

Puelle sighed, and drowned out the commencing argument as he mentally fell inside himself. Out of all the training he received, he valued this sort of meditation the most. Before him he put the two options, then he considered them both. Removing Agstie and Jusk, leaving just the reasoning, he made his decision. "Enough." Puelle said, separating the two. "We will take the child back to the village, and present him to the chieftain and elder. It is not our place to decide his fate."

Agstie smiled, and Jusk scowled, "Yes, Puelle."

"What is his name to be?" Agstie said, prompting a sigh from Puelle and a sarcastic chuckle from Jusk. "I think we should at least name him something, what do you think Puelle?"

Puelle shook his head, "I do not think that is wise, but, he is a member of our clan, so he deserves at least that. He is the son of Saturn. So, Saturnson. I mean that's logical right?" Puelle said, looking at a frowning Agiste.

"Puelle, when you have your first child, please let me know. I don't think you want to scar him for life. No… let's call him… Saturn... Saturos… yes, Saturos!" Agstie clasped her hands, "There's a strong name. What do you think, Saturos?"

The child looked at her, giggled, and clapped his hands again. Puelle had to admit, little kids were kind of cute, especially this one. The last thing he remembered seeing was Agstie and Saturos playing peek-a-boo, with Saturos seemingly finding the whole thing to be the most hilarious event in his life. The giggling was the last thing he remembered hearing, before blackness…

When he came too, he realized he was outside the mountain, and covered in blood and rock. His head felt like it had been split open, and he could not see that well. Gradually, his vision focused, and he could see Ophane and Jusk staring at the mountain which was oddly shuddering, as if there was an earthquake. Jusk looked beaten, blood and dirt covering him, while Ophane looked smaller and weaker than he had ever seen him- _wait… no!_

"Jusk… where is Agstie?" The question came out gargled, and he had to spit out blood. Jusk turned, Saturos cradled in his arm, asleep.

"Puelle… Saturn survived… Agstie and I fought him, but he transformed, he became a… a dragon. We couldn't beat him, So Agstie… She told me to get you and Saturos out. I told her I wouldn't but she said I would be responsible for the death of Prox. I dragged you out, and she, sh-"

"She brought the mountain down. Puelle, she sacrificed herself to save you and that child. She killed that monster, and herself. She's gone… we have children Puelle." Ophane did not turn, but Puelle could feel the pain.

Puelle released a breath, and dropped his head back in the snow, staring up into the dark sky. The storm was growing worse.


	3. In Absentia

Golden Sun: The Growing Storm

In Absentia

The house of the Elder was perhaps the largest in Prox, and on special occasions, it was filled to the brim. Wedding ceremonies, rights of passage, and funerals were usually the only times in which the capacity was reached, and even then that did not guarantee that the village and the Clan were properly represented.

Puelle felt uneasy though, it was rare that all the important figures of the Clan were together in one spot. All the patriarchs of the houses, the Council , and the Elder were present. Most surprising though was the rumors that Chieftain was present as well. Vicerex was not only the Chieftain of the entire Fire Clan of the North, but an Adept whose prowess was feared all the way to Contigo. Few ever caught a glimpse of him though; the Chieftain preferred to spend his time in the small settlements north of Prox, only coming down when his duty required him to.

For the moment Vicerex was not in the main room, only the Council seated around a large table. The Elder, smiling and very aged, seemed to be in his own little world as the other Proxeans argued. Rostambos, Patriarch of his house, was the most fiery of the debaters, constantly wagging a finger at the Elder and the Elder's nephew, Gelere.

"Damnit. You think because you are your uncle's favorite you presume to speak for him on this council? This is an outrage- first we spare the boy, and now this? How many traditions are you going to step on this night?"

Puelle had only been invited in after some proposition had already been put forward. Apparently it was a decisive issue, everyone seemed to be fired up (save of course, the smiling Elder). He honestly could not see why he was called to the meeting, save perhaps to discuss the death of Saturn. He felt sadness creeping into his thoughts but quickly pushed the mountain out of his mind and tried to focus on the proceedings.

"Do not be so quick to forget who lead us before Vicerex, in the Time of the Uprisings. Saturn's own father defended Prox to his own end; without his sacrifice there would be no Fire Clan of the North, no Prox. Just as Agiste has done for us today, so did Saturn's father in the past." Gelere shot back, but Rostambos pounced,

"So you say I should not place Saturn's crimes upon that monster's head, but I should instead place his grandfather's virtue?"

Gelere cracked a thin smile, "I only point out that while one could argue that the boy has potential for great evil, they must also admit has the potential for great good. I believe, however, that one makes their own destiny, regardless of parentage. If we punish that boy, we must then put ourselves on trial for our own ancestors crimes. I believe that is neither just nor fair."

Rostambos threw up his hands as another Patriarch scoffed, "Perhaps you have a point, but what of the issue at hand? This has never occurred in our history. There has not been preparation, claims have been ignored- by Kirin Vicerex is still alive! This is treacherous!"

_So that's it_. From what Puelle could gather, this council had been called to name Vicerex' successor as Chieftain. It was odd though, usually the Old Chieftain would pass on, and then the strongest Patriarchs would do battle to determine who was fit to lead the Clan. It was a celebrated and hallowed moment, the emergence of the new Chieftain. Puelle was half-tempted to side with the angry Patriarchs, though Gelere and the Elder were not known for rash decisions.

Another Patriarch yelled something, but Gelere ignored the insult and turned to his oblivious uncle, "As we have said, this is not a normal succession. The Chieftain has decided that he is no longer fit to supervise both Prox and the Northerlands. Therefore he will relinquish his right to lead the Southern Approaches, including Prox. He will still retain the title of Chieftain, though in a reduced role so that he can focus on the emerging trials in the North."

"He relinquishes them to an upstart?" Rostambos slammed a fist down on the table, which caused the Elder to chuckle.

Puelle's eyebrow rose, whoever this upstart was, he had apparently ticked off the majority of the Southern Patriarchs. Not a promising start.

The yelling died down as the Elder licked his lips, "You know… my father once told me… We Proxeans are hot-heads… I see he meant both figuratively and literally!" The old man began to shake with laughter, a few in the room half-heartedly joining in on the terrible joke.

"Your jokes have soured with age." The booming voice silenced the room once more. Vicerex, Chieftain of Prox and the Fire Clan, strode into the room. Vicerex once molten red hair had faded to an ashen color, and his eyes were no longer the bright red Puelle remembered from childhood. Though age had taken its toll on the Proxean's once vibrant and powerful frame, Puelle would never go against him in a fight; the Mars Adept still exuded power. "I have heard your arguing from above. Have you little faith in my leadership? Who here disagrees with my orders?"

Rostambos, for his credit, shot to his feet to oppose the Chieftain. Though, when he spoke, he seemed smaller and deprived of most of his anger, "I do. I will not stand for this abandonment of the old ways."

Vicerex smiled, and gestured outside. "Very well, son of Clades. This is your choice, we shall decide this as we have done before our time. Anyone else wish to enter the challenge?" The Chieftain looked around, his eyes boring into the Proxean's souls and warning them not to stand up. "Very well. Rostambos, Puelle, outside with you."

At that moment clarity hit Puelle like a meteor falling from the sky.

Puelle sized up his opponent. In Prox, the strongest warrior had to be Puelle, hands down. However, Rostambos had been trained and lived outside the village.

When the other Proxean hefted the gigantic axe, Puelle sighed deeply. "Fantastic…"

It had taken only a few seconds earlier for Puelle to realize he had been designated as Vicerex successor in the South. The casualness of the Elder and Vicerex, coupled with the complete lack of fore-warning had delivered a mental blow that had left Puelle's head spinning. The blow almost was as shocking as Rostambos first side tackle, though the brutish Proxean would win out if there was a competition between the two. Puelle spit out blood as he staggered to his feet, only to be knocked sideways by the side of the axe. Apparently the challenge had begun.

"Is that all, Chieftain?" Rostambos mocked Puelle, "Perhaps another challenger should enter so that I am not proclaimed too quickly. There's no honor in no fight."

"You asked for it!" Puelle launched a single fireball from his fist that the other Proxean easily deflected. Right behind the fireball though was Puelle's sword tip, which shredded through Rostambos' robes, almost striking bone. The other Proxean howled and withdrew his bloodied arm.

"Damn you!" He cursed, healing his wound with alarming speed. "You will pay dearly!"

The ring of Proxean Patriarchs and elders watched as a flurry of blows were traded. Each Adept kept pace with the other- a cut for a cut, a burn for a burn. There was a real height and strength difference, though Puelle was faster than his lumbering opponent (Puelle himself was not that petite when compared to the rest of the Proxeans). The battle see-sawed as neither man was able to deliver the knock-out punch.

Finally, Rostambos caught him off guard. After a small flare the Proxean followed with a huge wall of flames that forced Puelle to defend himself from the powerful fire-storm. He leveled his sword and gathered his psyenergy to protect him, but knew what was coming. The old one-two. Sure enough he saw the swinging axe through the breaks in the flame, and could only try and place his blade between himself and the axe's edge. The blow was debilitating, Puelle's arm crumpled in towards his body and he felt his sword shatter. The force of the blow knocked him sideways, the only reprieve in the ferocious attack being that he landed in a snow drift.

As he lay in a broken heap, he could only think how quickly he had risen and fallen. One thought repeated, beating the Proxean down more and more: He had dishonored his Chieftain, he was not worthy. Surely they would let him keep his life if he promised to live as a hermit- perhaps in the shadow of the lighthouse. Life would not be so bad, his arm would heal eventually.

The Proxean tried to move his right arm, but was met with searing pain. "Damn," he said, letting it lay limply in the snow next to him. So much for leading Prox.

Rostambos unleashed a hearty laugh, "This is it? My Chieftain, I think you made the wrong choice. Surely you see the error of trusting this one…" He said, motioning to Puelle's broken body.

Vicerex merely stared.

"… After all," Rostambos said, turning to address the Patriarchs, "He could not even protect a single member of our Clan in her time of need. How is he to protect all of us?"

At the mention of Agiste Puelle felt something inside him growing. His legs suddenly reacted, his good arm pushing him off the snow. This emotion, this raw rage, seemingly took command in Puelle's brain, and he took a back seat in his own body to his passion.

"Ahh! You want to try again? Good luck without a sword or arm-" Rostambos' taunt was met with a wave of fire. The Proxean chuckled, but the moment the wave let up, another followed in its' place.

Puelle unleashed one fiery attack after another, not pausing for a second. With each step he took, another hurricane of fire engulfed Rostambos. When he was merely inches away, Puelle grabbed the handle of the axe and wrenched it from the other Adepts' hands. When Rostambos tried to counter he was met with another wall of flame that pushed him down to his knees trying to block with his own psyenergy.

Puelle tossed the axe to the side and began to savagely beat Rostambos face with his good fist. When the other Proxean tried to block, Puelle summoned another ball of fire to hit the other Adept's exposed flesh. This brutal exchange occurred for only a moment before a shout broke Puelle's bloodlust.

A large hand tore Puelle away from the now bloodied Rostambos. When the Mars Adept attempted to turn on this interrupter he stopped cold. Vicerex stared deeply into his eyes, slowly shaking his head. "Enough, brother. You have proved your strength. Now prove your leadership." Vicerex spun Puelle around to face Rostambos.

In the heat of the moment the Proxean had not realized how much damage he had dealt to his opponent. Rostambos was supported by two Patriarchs on either side, keeping his large frame off the ground. His face and upper torso was covered in blood and burns, and the man's eyes seemed to be rolling about. A healer stepped forward but Vicerex waved the man down.

Puelle limped over, staring at Rostambos. The Proxean's eyes stopped moving long enough for them to meet. Puelle outstretched his hand, and there was a long moment as Rostambos stared at the outstretched hand. Not a word was spoken among the Patriarchs as the two Proxeans stood in a sort of limbo.

"You… are strong… my brother… Stronger than I. You deserve to lead Prox." Rostambos clasped his hand, and the two Proxeans shook. That was the last thing Puelle remembered when his world went black.

The old boards of the house creaked as the night storm gathered strength. The Elder's domicile had emptied quickly after the challenge, with the patriarchs going home to relay the news. All whom remained were Vicerex, the Elder, Gelere, and a handful of warriors milling about the entrance. Puelle's unconscious body lay on a nearby couch if one counted him.

Gelere turned to his uncle after checking on the new Chieftain of the Southern Lands, "Elder, all is well. If Rostambos' pride can survive, there will have been no causalities."

The Elder smiled, "That is good. You know, Vicerex, I have taken my nephew on to be my protégé? He's very bright."

"Quite. And It is obvious to see."

"Of course, you are very bright too." The Elder said, nodding knowingly. "This move is not one you wish to make, but it is necessary, and Puelle is an excellent choice."

Vicerex leaned forward, "I do not doubt Puelle. I do not doubt he will be a good Chieftain for me In Absentia. I do not doubt that he will be the best surrogate father for that youngling. I do doubt though, whether or not Prox will continue to survive." The Chieftain's candid concerns shook Gelere. This man had never once shown weakness- never! And now here he was, talking about something that had apparently frightened him, "There is something afoot, my old friend. Something beyond Saturn, beyond the Time of the Uprisings. Something… catastrophic. I fear that if we do not act, we shall be consumed."

The Elder's smile did not break, though his voice suddenly sounded very serious and very clear. It was as if the real Proxean had been hiding beneath the layer of senility, "You have had the dreams too? This is most concerning... There is great change coming to Weyward, though as of now I am not sure what."

Gelere raised an eyebrow, but his uncle waved him down. "Sadly, Vicerex, it is not for us to know. We have begun to set a grand scheme into motion, but this will not be realized until Saturn's son is himself an adult."

The Chieftain did not scoff, but leaned back in his seat, "What makes you think that?"

"I have seen that it is to be his destiny to combat this catastrophe you speak of. As much as it pains me to say this, we shall play a small role in saving our Clan."

Vicerex smashed his fist against the table. "Well then I suppose I should return North and stop wasting my time here?"

"If it is to be so, my old friend, let it be so." The Elder tilted his head and smiled his usual, care-free smile. "But I fear we may have to meet in a different place, far from here. A place not bound by the laws of Weyward."

Vicerex turned and made his way to the door. "I hope we have made the right decisions… Sparing the boy… Elevating Puelle…" He turned and looked at the Elder. "This is my path, and it leads away from Prox. I am sorry, old friend."

"I had already forgiven you. Go and find peace, brother." The Elder continued to smile as Vicerex ventured into the stormy night.

The Elder rose, and Gelere shot up to assist him, "This night marks the passing of a generation. Vicerex and I are relics of the past, and are not fit to lead in the future. That is why I wish for you to stay close to Puelle with his initial trials. Leadership is not easy. Give good council when it is necessary, and console when that too is necessary. Be his friend and confidant, for your own ascension is not far off. You two were hand-picked to guide our Clan, and we have a reason for choosing you too. Together you shall be strong..."

Gelere nodded, expecting his uncle to go on.

"…Now help me to bed. This old Adept is tired."


End file.
